Strangers Like Us
by margauxroseclarke
Summary: Jane Porter returns to London with her father, but months, and even years later - they both can't shake the feeling that they should have stayed. Will they return to Africa? Could the budding young romance between Tarzan and Jane have kept its spark? Could Tarzan and Jane reconnect after being apart for so long?
1. Chapter 1: Goodbye

**CHAPTER ONE**

Jane turned her face away in a feeble attempt to hide her tears. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" she asked, her voice a bit croaky.

Tarzan shook his head and looked back towards where the shore met the jungle. "My place is here," he said, "I belong here."

Jane grimaced, knowing that he would not change his mind. She understood why, of course, after the events of the previous day with Clayton, Tarzan would not be ready and willing to leave the gorillas. With a sigh, she lamented, "I suppose we should say goodbye then, Tarzan."

At that moment, her father called to her from down the beach, "It's time to be going, Janey!"

She felt a lump rise in her throat, knowing that this was more than likely going to be their final goodbye. The likelihood of returning to Africa was minimal after they returned to Britain - getting the funding to come to Africa this first time had been a struggle in and of itself. Tarzan took her hand, and laid it flat against his, their palms touching - just as they had done when they first met one another. "Are you really going?" Tarzan asked.

"I…i have to, Tarzan. I belong in England - with Daddy - with people," she said, her voice trailing off as she attempted to quell the tears that threatened to flow freely down her cheeks at any moment. She knew that goodbyes were hard - she had said plenty of them in her short life - but she also knew in her heart that they were only this painful when you would never say hello again. When she couldn't hold back her tears anymore, she turned her face away and continued, "I'll never forget you - never for the rest of my days. Thank you…for everything." Her voice cracked slightly, and Tarzan could hear the turmoil in her intonation - whether to go or to stay. If she could throw her arms around him and never leave the jungle ever again, she may very well have done so. But, she could not.

Tarzan could see that these were his last, fleeting moments with this beautiful stranger like him. Jane wouldn't be staying. After all - she had a life in England to return to - a human family, friends. He felt his heart sink to his feet, for how could he ask her to stay, when she had so much to go back to, and he had so little to give? "I'll never forget you either, Jane," he said, placing his hand under her chin and turning her face to look at him.

She knew that she needed to go. The longer that she waited, the harder it would be to finally walk away. This particular day was beautiful - a gloriously warm sun overhead hanging in a vast, azure sky, and a breeze ruffling her dress. Finally, she bolstered up all of her courage and forced herself to turn away. Her father and several of the ship's crewmen were waiting a small distance down the beach for her. As she reached them, she dabbed under her eyes with a small handkerchief, wiping away the tears that had been streaming down her cheeks.

Her father looked at her, quite concerned with her level of distress. "Good heavens! Are you alright, dear?"

"I'll have to be," she sniffled. "We can't very well stay here forever, can we?" she asked rhetorically - although secretly wishing that her father would say that they could. The old professor shook his head sadly.

From there, they made their way to the ship which would take them back to England. Jane had a feeling that England would never feel the same as it did when she left.

Tarzan watched as the ship vanished on the horizon, and all sign of the Porters — all signs of Jane — were gone. She was gone. He had hoped against hope that she would turn around and run back to him, but she did not.

He wondered what would become of her. She was going back to England - this land he had heard so much about in his short time knowing her. He hoped that she would be happy back in England - he hoped that she was right, that she would never forget him - for he would never forget her. But, he could not keep himself from staring longingly out at the horizon, wishing that Jane would have stayed in the jungle - that she would have stayed with him. For so long he had yearned for the answers as to who he was and for a time, he had them - but now those answers were somewhere on the ocean, sailing further away from him with each passing second.

He at last tore his eyes away from the spot where the ship had vanished over the horizon, and turned back towards the jungle. The dense canopy of trees shaded him from the sun, and the songs of the birds was everywhere. Normally, this would have filled him with joy - but how could it, now that Jane was gone?

The next day, Tarzan returned to the same place on the beach that he had stood and watched Jane and her father leave. He sat on the sand for a while, just staring out into the distance. For some time, he thought about Jane, and for some time, he thought of his parents. Of course, he had seen their treehouse, seen their photos, held their possessions - but he had never known them. What if they were English? If they had been - did they live in London? Perhaps they did, he didn't know, and there was no way of finding out. If his parents had not met such an unfortunate fate in the jungle nearly two decades earlier, would he have lived his life as a proper Englishman? Again, he did not and could not know. Would he have met Jane - even, convinced her to be with him, if he had been a civilized Englishman? This thought was too much for him, so he squeezed his eye shut tightly, trying to make all of these questions disappear from his mind.

Needing to take himself away from this beach for a while, he retreated to his parents' treehouse. It was a bit weathered, but was sturdy enough nevertheless. He stepped inside and looked around. It was just as he had left it several ago when Kala had taken him here. One thing was different though - there was something laying on the table that had not been there before.

Upon further investigation, Tarzan determined that it was a small, leather bound sketchbook - Jane's sketchbook. He didn't have any idea how it had gotten here - he could only assume that she left it here, perhaps by mistake. He opened it, and leaned through the pages. He realized that this was the sketchbook that Jane had been using during her whole stay in the jungle with him. He assumed she would want to bring it with her to contribute to her father's research but perhaps he was wrong. He placed it down again, and looked around the treehouse again. This place, somehow, also reminded him too much of Jane - so he left, trying to find a place that did not immediately fill his mind with thoughts of her.


	2. Chapter 2: Wondering

The Porter's residence was a modest one - a small blue house nestled between other similar houses on an extraordinarily ordinary street in the south of London. The lawn was a bit overgrown now due to their period of absence, but that could be fixed. The paint needed fixing too in some places, but that could be fixed, all in due time.

Jane sat at the foot of her bed, staring out the window, down at the street where pedestrians strolled by, and the occasional pigeon could be spotted. They had been home for several days now, and as she predicted, London felt different than when she left. She had been suddenly thrust back into her life of Victorian obligations, no longer free to swing through the trees and swim in the pools that formed at the foot of looming waterfalls with… _Tarzan_. Tarzan, she repeated in her mind.

The formalities of English life felt foreign and forced now. She could not help but notice a nagging feeling in her stomach, one telling her that they should have stayed. She had felt this several times before on their journey back. She had stifled it immediately, knowing that they couldn't possibly have stayed. She wondered what Tarzan was doing right now. Thinking back on their parting was still too painful for her, if she was being honest. She couldn't easily forget the look of pleading in his eyes as he had asked her to stay. How could she have stayed? She didn't belong in the jungle - she had obligations in London: university to complete, research to conduct with her father, all of those things - things, she reminded herself, she could not possibly do in the jungle.

Later that night, Jane sat at the foot of her bed again, gazing out the window. The moon was bright and full on this particular night. Stars dotted the air above London - tiny diamonds glinting in the black velvet sky. She wondered what the moon looked like from the beach just beyond the edge of the jungle in Africa. She wondered if Tarzan was looking at the moon, too - she wondered if he was thinking of her as she was thinking of him. She secretly hoped he was. She wished desperately that he would have come with them. They could have given him their guest bedroom, and shown him London - and the rest of the civilized world. They would have been together.

Jane reached out and grabbed a small red journal that sat on her windowsill. Procuring a quill too, she began to write. It seemed that the words spilled out of her hand as fast as they entered her mind.

 _Oh, Tarzan, I wish you were here. The moon is so lovely and bright tonight - the stars are lovely too. London is a beautiful city. I wish you were here to see it with Daddy and I. The lights in the windows of the buildings look like little stars too. I hope the moon is just as beautiful where you are. Even though I'm in England, and you're in Africa, we are looking at the same moon._

She put her quill and ink down and sighed, laying down on her bed, looking towards the ceiling. It had been a beautiful night like this when she had followed Tarzan up into the boughs of an enormous tree - and he had handed her a vine. She had been quite frightened, as she thought that she was far too fragile and weak to do what he was asking her to, but she trusted him. She had drawn her breath up into her chest, and leapt from the branch, vine clutched tightly in her hands. Much to her surprise and delight, she was swirling through the trees - moving from vine to vine without too much in the way of difficulty. Tarzan had been right behind her, holding his vine with one hand, and wrapping his free arm around her waist. She remembered so vividly looking into his eyes, two beautiful verdant spheres that exuded warmth and innocent wonderment. That had been a good night, Jane concluded.

She thought about that night often. No gentleman in England had ever looked at her in the way that Tarzan did - not even the man that had begun courting her a year or so before her journey to Africa. He was well intentioned from what she could see, but the thought of a marriage, children, and a quiet life in a little English house just shook Jane the wrong way.

This thought brought her to recall that this exact man would be coming to her house tomorrow evening. He had left a letter at their doorstep telling her this when they had first arrived back - he had said that he had a surprise for her. She had never been one to enjoy surprises.

Jane fell asleep quickly that night, but it was a restless sleep, interrupted by thoughts of what she had left behind and perhaps what she was heading towards.

That next morning, Jane traveled to the university lecture hall for her classes which she had been eager to resume as quickly as possible. After the lecture had concluded, and she had packed away her stationary, she joined several of her friends at a table in the library. The four of them sat at this table, books spread in front of them - but studying was the farthest thing from their minds today.

"You must tell us," one girl began, "What happened in Africa? We've all heard about the…dilemma with you and Mr. Clayton, but, we don't know much else."

Jane grimaced at the mention of Clayton. She hoped to never be reminded of him again. "Oh…yes, Clayton. That was dreadful. But, Daddy and I saw gorillas - much of what he predicted was true. If only we had been given more time to study them up close."

"Up close? I thought you and your father were studying them from afar," the girl responded, slightly taken aback at the idea that Jane and her father would want to be in close contact with the gorillas. The perception of gorillas and many other animals that lived in the jungle was quite skewed due to lack of education amongst the general public about them - but it still exasperated Jane and her father from time to time.

"Alison," Jane began, "You should know from enough time spent around my father and I that gorillas are gentle creatures. And, anyways, it's not as if we went and found them on our own, really - someone brought us to them."

Alison raised an eyebrow at this, "Someone? Clayton?"

Jane realized that she had said too much. She would now have to explain the circumstances of their trip involving Tarzan. She shook her head. "No, not Clayton. He didn't know where to find them at all, actually. No. We had a...guide, I guess you could say."

"Go on," urged another girl, Millie.

"His name was Tarzan. He was raised by the gorillas, which I know sounds quite unbelievable, but it's true. Yes, I met him in a…rather unconventional way, shall we say. I was with Daddy and Mr. Clayton when we first got to the jungle, and I had spotted this little baby monkey. Of course, of course, I stopped to draw a picture of it. Then, absolute chaos ensued…naturally. I was chased by a whole tree full of baboons, and I had to jump off of this enormous cliff to stop them from getting to me - you know, as one does," she explained, chuckling slightly at the memory, "And instead of plunging immediately to my death as I anticipated I would - I was flying through the air. When I looked up - there he was - Tarzan, swinging from a vine, holding me by my dress. He saved me."

None of the three girls knew what to say to that. They all sat around the table in stunned silence for some time. After a while, the third girl, Emily, spoke, "Luck would have it that something like that would happen to you, Jane."

"Quite," Jane agreed, smiling. She didn't want to explain much more about this to them at this time. She preferred to keep Tarzan her own little secret for now. "Never mind all that. Larkin is coming to my house this evening. He left a letter at my door a few days ago saying he was coming. He said he had a surprise for me."

Alison clasped her hands together excitedly. "Oh, you'll have to tell us all about it tomorrow."

"I can't say I'm looking forward to it. You know how I hate surprises."

Jane didn't particularly want this evening to come. She had a sinking feeling as to what was coming.

—

Thousands of miles away on that same morning, Tarzan gazed out over the ocean again - looking at the spot where the Porter's ship had vanished over the horizon. He had come here every day since they left. He would stand there and just gaze out into the distance, almost begging silently in his head that he would see a boat come back over the horizon. It had not come yet, though. He did not know if it would ever come at all.


	3. Chapter 3: Surprised

CHAPTER THREE

That evening, around six o'clock, there was a knock on the door of the Porter's residence. Jane opened the door swiftly, greeting the person waiting on the other side. It was Larkin, there as he had said in his note. Jane smiled, hoping that she could mask the dread rising in her stomach. He stood in front her on the front porch, an excited expression plastered across his face. "Hello, Janey," he said, flashing a suave smile at her. He was just the same as he had been when they had left for Africa – honey colored blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that had captured that heart of every girl in Jane's year of university…with the exception of perhaps Jane herself.

He was nice, she told herself. He was training to be a doctor, and he would be quiet well off, she reminded herself. This was a good relationship. She would be happy. If only she fully believed it. Stepping back to allow him entry into the house, they exchanged casual pleasantries and a brief hug. "So, you said you were here to surprise me," Jane said, drawing in a deep breath, bracing herself for what she thought was going to come. "You know how I hate surprises, Larkin."

"Ah, yes," he said, "I know that very well, Janey. But, this is something I couldn't spoil." Jane gave a small smile, hoping it didn't look too much like a grimace. "Come, let's sit in the living room."

Jane followed Larkin into the living room, both of them taking a seat in one of the several chairs dotted throughout the room. The room was large, and yet cozy - a large mantle positioned over the fireplace, the mantle lined with photographs and drawings, as well as several of the Professor's certificates and awards from his many academic ventures. On a small, round table sat a music box - one that Jane's mother had bought when Jane was a very young girl. Jane had always loved this music box, painted with delicate floral designs on the dark wood of the body of the box. It played a soft, melodic tune, which kept the awkward silence between the two at bay. After some time, Jane spoke. "How have you been? We haven't spoken since daddy and I left for Africa some time ago."

"Fine, all things considered, Janey. Just attending to some important business in the time that you were gone."

"What kind of business?" Jane asked.

"You'll see, in due time," Larkin said, giving her a playful smirk - one which put Jane more on edge. She wished he would just tell her what this surprise was already. It was making her nervous, sitting there, just waiting - but not knowing what she was waiting for, exactly. "But, I'll spare you any more worry - I'm ready to give you your surprise now." He pulled a small package from the breast pocket of his shirt and handed it to Jane. "I asked your father for permission to give this to you some time ago - before you both went to Africa," he began. Jane's heart skipped a beat - no, not this, no, no. This was just what she had hoped it wouldn't be, she just knew it. Lifting the wrapping back from the package in her hands, she revealed a small dark box. Larkin knelt in front of her with one knee on the floor, and opened the box, the contents facing her. Just what she hoped wouldn't be there. In this box, in a soft bed of red cloth, sat an engagement ring — a thin gold band with a sizable diamond sitting atop it. "Jane, dearest Jane Porter, would you do me the greatest pleasure, and be my wife?" he asked, brushing a few strands of her auburn hair behind her ear.

A blush rose in her cheeks and she felt as if she couldn't breathe. She forced a broad smile, a convincing one. She nodded enthusiastically - a tear trickling from the corner of her eye. This tear was mistaken by the young man in front of her ad one of joy when in fact it was a tear that grew its roots in turmoil. Every instinct in Jane's body wanted to say no. Larkin was a smart young man, from a wealthy family, with a large house and a promising career in medicine in one of London's most esteemed hospitals. He came from a family that owned a house in an upper echelons type area of London, with a second home in Monaco, and a large boat that they used to make trips to mainland Europe. She should say yes - this was likely the best opportunity she would have in life for marriage. Any other young woman in this position would have said yes, and so should she.

Despite all of this - all of the grandeur that could befall her if she were to become the wife of Larkin Edwards, she could not stop her mind from wandering to someone else. She stifled this quickly, instead turning her attention back to her now fiancé, who was now sliding the ring onto her finger. For all Jane cared, he may have just put her in handcuffs. They kissed for a moment, but Jane wanted to pull away as soon as she could. It felt wrong, her lips on his, but she didn't want to admit why. "I'm ever so happy," Jane said quietly, "It's a lovely ring, my love." She nearly choked on the last two words. She was trapped now. She could not retract, though she wanted to.

"I'll have the most beautiful wife in all of London, soon enough," Larkin said, holding Jane's hands in his tightly. "Now, Miss Porter, would you do me the honor of joining me at my house for dinner tonight? We have a wedding to discuss."

Jane nodded again, rising from her chair. "Just let me fetch a jacket, there's a bit of a chill in the air." As she retrieved her coat from the closet in the foyer, she let out a quiet sigh. She glanced out the window, looking at the setting sun and the clouds, stained milky shades of pink and peach. How beautiful it was out there. The leaves on the trees were getting greener by the day, and flowers were beginning to bloom on the shrubbery that lined the roads. Without her noticing, her mind wandered again. She thought of Africa, and the trees there that grew so tall they must've poked out on the other side of the clouds. She thought of the night that she had sat in the branches of one of those trees and watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a brilliantly colorful sky and stars that began to emerge. She had not been alone, then. She had been with Tarzan. They had sat in the tallest branches of that tree for what felt like hours - mostly silent, from time to time exchanging a few words. It was not an uncomfortable silence, though. They had kissed that night - many times in fact. Jane's mind had swung up to the heavens and back with this. Kissing Larkin was not, and had never been, like that night in the jungle.

Realizing what she had been thinking of - Jane ousted these thoughts from her head. She mustn't think of the jungle anymore - she mustn't think of Tarzan anymore. She had a fiancé — she had a boyfriend when she was in Africa, and she knew that she shouldn't have been as close to Tarzan as she was. She mustn't be thinking of things like this. She would be a married woman soon, and she couldn't be thinking of any other man aside from her husband in such a fashion. Jane pulled on her coat, silently vowing that she would no longer think of Africa or of who she had met there. It was a scientific, academic journey - and that was how she was to reflect on it; purely academically.


	4. Chapter 4: Chapel Lane West

CHAPTER FOUR

Over dinner that evening, Jane learned that the "important business" Larkin had been attending to in her absence was planning their wedding. His wealth and her more humble upbringing seemed to show as he explained to her the plans. Talk of ordering a dress for Jane from Paris, and a suit for Larkin from the most well respected retailer in London seemed to go over her head. Her father made money in his profession - and her mother had made an income as a seamstress in her time - but grandeur of this caliber was foreign still.

At the dinner table with them wereLarkin's parents and his sister, Clara. Jane had always been fond of Clara since they met at the beginning of her and Larkin's courtship. Whereas Larkin was clearly a wealthy man in his demeanor, Clara was more subdued, and you could not immediately determine her wealth. She did not seem caught up in money and extravagant holiday villas in the Mediterranean like Larkin and his parents.

Jane always felt a bit out of place in Larkin's house. It was so different from her own. Her own house was cozy, and not too large, but large enough to not be cramped. Larkin's house, in contradiction, was enormous - with fine, dark wooden and linoleum floors, high arching ceilings, and ornate, sparkling chandeliers that looked as if they belonged in Buckingham a Palace. She felt somehow unqualified to be here; unworthy of sitting in the mahogany dining room chairs with velvet cushions, far too commonplace to be sipping water from real crystal glasses and eating dinner off of plates shipped all the way from a shop in a large American city.

"I'm ever so pleased to see you two engaged," Larkin's father, Victor, said. He too was a doctor, and was the spitting image of Larkin, albeit with grey hair, not blonde. "We want you two to have a wedding that you'll remember for the rest of your lives - no corners will be cut here. Only the finest for Larkin and his fiancé."

"Oh, yes," agreed Larkin's mother, Abigail. "And, we have some news for you, Jane."

"More news?" inquired Jane, not knowing what they could possibly be springing on her now.

"Of course. Once you're married, we can't very well having you living at home here, and - as nice as it is," Abigail said, "We can't have you two live in the Porter family home." Jane was slightly hurt by this remark. Her family home was lovely, and well worn, but well worn with love.

"So," the father continued, "We've purchased a house a few streets away for you - on Chapel Lane West."

Jane's eyes widened at this. Chapel Lane West had some of the most expensive property in the whole city of London. "Sir, Mr. Edwards, I'm sorry," she sputtered, "But there's no way I can afford to help pay for a house there. My father is a professor, but his income doesn't allow for such a grand expense, nor does mine as a research assistant in the botany laboratories there."

Both of Larkin's parents smiled. "Oh, dear, no - the house is paid for in full already. You needn't worry at all."

Jane didn't know what to say, as no one had ever offered her such a gift before in her life. All she could muster was a quiet but appreciative, "Thank you." She cast a glance towards Clara, who had been quiet for most of the dinner, as Larkin and his parents talked and gushed all about the wedding plans they had made. Jane could see Clara, her head tilted downwards, staring at her plate - but not seeming too interested in what was on it. She was quiet.

The meal that night was lovely, but it was getting late, and Jane needed to be going home. Larkin walked her back, despite her insistence that she would be fine alone. She came in quietly, and went to her room immediately, closing the door softly behind her. She practically fell into her bed, feeling overwhelmed and trapped and confused. She could not possibly accept all of these things being given to her, but what choice did she have?

—

Despite having seen nothing since the day the Porter's left, Tarzan returned, day after day, without fail, to the beach. He squinted at the horizon, trying to make out any sign of unusual activity, or a ship. This day, much like every one before it, yielded nothing. He feared he would never see anything.

Though, if they returned one day, he was unsure as to how he would feel. Jane had left for the civilization that she had always known - and seemed to love. If she came back, would she want him to be civilized too? He shuddered at the thought of a life of confining clothing and formality, even in the jungle.

He fervently believed that Jane belonged here, in the jungle, with him. He had seen, with his own two eyes, how she had come to life the more time she spent here. Her quiet, shy exterior had been slowly peeled away, only to reveal an adventurous, daring woman who trusted him and wanted to know about his world. How could she possibly belong back in England? How?

Regardless of that, even if she did come back one day, Jane had left once before. What would stop her from leaving again and ripping this metaphorical wound open again? She had left once, and if she loved him - wouldn't she have stayed? He did not know. He didn't know how to feel about any of it. None of this made sense - all he knew was that it hurt.


	5. Chapter 5: Two Houses, Two Worlds

CHAPTER FIVE

The house on Chapel Lane West was far more extravagant than Jane had previously imagined. It was a mansion, in all senses of the word. It was a large, looming white house that very well surpassed all of the other houses' heights, with dark grey shutters and an elegant red brick chimney. There were many windows to let natural sunlight into the house, all of them equipped with velvet curtains that could be drawn to block out the light when that was desired. Jane's curtains at her own home had been quite ordinary, perhaps a bit frilly at the bottom, but nothing this lavish. There were an abundance of bedrooms on the second floor of the house - one large room that she and Larkin would share once they married that coming May, and then four smaller ones. Jane assumed that these would be guest bedrooms, left for visiting friends or family. Even the smaller bedrooms were larger than the one that Jane's parents had once shared at her current home on Epworth Court.

She was secretly glad that she would be living at home with her father until the wedding - two more months to be ordinary, simple Jane. This house seemed far too big for a woman from humble beginnings such as herself. It felt like somewhere you might visit every so often - perhaps the house of a relative that you don't know very well, or a distant friend - not a house you yourself would live in. It was too extravagant for that, too upper crust to be painted any shade of ordinary.

She imagined it would be quite an empty feeling place to be in alone. The high ceilings and uncarpeted floors made every sound echo here, adding to the atmosphere of emptiness. "And, there are certainly enough bedrooms for all of our children," Larkin said, jolting Jane out of her thoughts.

"Children?" she asked, having never heard him talk about children before. She was quite nearly incredulous. He did not strike her as a man that would want to be a father. He was far too swept up in his career, his status, his wealth, and well, himself to be concerned with fatherhood. She had a sinking feeling that he was indeed not the kind of man that wanted to be a father - and that she would be raising their children, that she was unaware that they would be having until now, mostly alone, with only his monetary support. She did not particularly want children, but the ways of married life would likely see to it that she had some. And, with the money of the Edwards family, she could see to it that all of their children would be well educated. She could seek some solace in knowing that this meaning of two completely different lives would at least provide their potential children with education.

"Of course, Jane. We'll be married, and you'll continue going to university - until of course, you become pregnant," he said, as if this should have been common knowledge to her already, "And then, you'll remain home, with the children. But don't fret, we'll have a housekeeper, so you'll be able to relax a bit." Jane was tempted to scoff at this. If they were to have children, there would be no relaxing - housekeeper or not.

The sinking feeling grew stronger. He knew how passionate she was about her education, and about the research she and her father did together. He knew that she would not easily be kept cooped up in a house, raising children and cooking meals. The idea of having a housekeeper was foreign to her, but not completely unpalatable – she was kind, and would make their job easier by helping a bit, too. She could never simply sit back and have someone clean up after her. That went against everything she had been taught by her parents as a young girl.

Although - this is what was expected her - as the future wife of a wealthy doctor, she would be expected to sit at home, passive and subservient to her husband. She had no interest in being the pretty lady on some rich man's arm. The thought of this made her shudder.

"Oh," she said, trying her best to sound happy, "I didn't realize you had this all so well planned out." Jane secretly hoped that this tour of the house would be over soon.

He nodded. He had made these plans, alongside his parents, whilst she was in Africa. The path for them was set already, their whole lives planned out, already. It was going to be a beautiful life — the vacation house in Monaco, the money, the finest things in life; the quiet, conventional life they were expected to have. He kissed her, cupping her face in his hands. "Jane Porter, I'm going to make you the happiest wife and mother in all of London."

...

Jane returned home, having been escorted back by Larkin, despite her protests that she was an adult now and could very well walk home alone in broad daylight - or any time of day, for that matter.

Her father greeted her as she came through the front door. "Ah! Janey, dear - how was the house? Do you like it? I've walked by it several times but never did I imagine that you - my daughter - would live there one day. The biggest house on all of Chapel Lane West, my goodness, it's truly unheard of."

"Mm, it's a lovely house," Jane said. There was much enthusiasm to be desired from her tone.

"Is something…troubling you, dear?"

"No! No, not at all, Daddy," Jane assured, "I'm quite alright. Just tired, that's all. I might go to bed early this evening."

Archimedes Q. Porter was not a naive man, and he could see that Jane was not being entirely truthful. He decided to let the issue be for now, though. It was most likely nerves. All of this was so new to her. After all, he recalled his wife being nervous about the future when they had been engaged - but they had lived a blissful married life for nearly 30 years. The same would be true for Jane. It was simply nervousness, he concluded.

Jane did retire to her room early that night. She pulled on her long, white nightgown and allowed herself to become one with her bed. She would miss this bed. The blankets had been hers since she was just a young girl, and though they were well worn, they kept her warm and reminded her of simpler times. She wished that she could take her bed and her blankets to the house on Chapel Lane West, but Larkin had insisted on buying everything new — everything top of the line. And anyways, two adults would not fit in her bed made for one, she reminded herself.

At some point, she drifted off into sleep - not a restful one, though.

—

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees that the treehouse rested upon. It was a morning much like any other - the sun was out, and the jungle was a cacophony of sound - like it was on any other ordinary day. Tarzan awoke, but not where he usually did. He was curled up in the small cot that was in the corner of the treehouse - not in a nest of leaves amongst the rest of the gorillas. The cot had not blankets, and only a thin pillow on it, but this did not bother him, it was warm enough in the jungle on its own.

He sat up and observed the treehouse around him. It appeared untouched. Nothing was out of place that he could notice immediately. Upon closer inspection, he realized that he had fallen asleep here whilst flipping through the pages of Jane's sketchbook, as it was laying on the bed next to him, open to a page with a drawing of a house.

She had told him that this was a drawing of her house in England. She had talked at length about how much she loved this house. Though, it was vastly different from the treehouse Tarzan found himself sitting in now. The house in Jane's drawing had a front garden, a porch, and awning over the porch, whereas the treehouse was old and blanketed by vines and leaves.

He examined the drawing more carefully. He wondered if he could ever get to England and see this house - if he could ever see Jane again. Perhaps, if he could get to England, he could find her. He imagined himself, dressed in his father's suit like he had been the day that they were all meant to go back to England together, walking up the front steps of the porch, and knocking on the door of Jane's house - waiting with flowers for her, like he had done that day that he first had asked her to stay in Africa with him.

But, how could he possibly get to England? He had never seen a ship before or after the Porters came. And, even if he could get to England, he knew it would be nearly impossible to find Jane or her father. They had told him how many people lived in England, and they were only two in that mass. The more he thought, the more he was disheartened. The treehouse always comforted him at first, but it always made him rather melancholy after a while.


	6. Chapter 6: As She Should

CHAPTER SIX

Jane's eyes fluttered open. It was still early in the morning, but the sun was up. She could hear the shrill yet melodious calls of the bird that nested in the trees around their house. The sky was clear of clouds and the air was warm. The lavender walls of her bedroom had a soft glow in the early morning light. She loved this bedroom. She had been here for all of her childhood years - she had read mountains of books in here, sketched pictures by candlelight into the early hours of the morning, and studied for university exams.

Looking at the clock, she knew she had only a few hours until a carriage would arrive to take her to Larkin's family home to prepare for the wedding that day. This day had come much quicker than she had expected. It had been a large, if not the only, topic of discussion amongst her friends at the university. They were all going to be in attendance at the early afternoon ceremony, and were undeniably excited to be friends with a young woman marrying into such a prestigious family. Prestige did not appeal much to Jane, but it seemed to appeal to everyone around her.

She pulled on an old, cream colored frock, and began brushing her long, straight hair. Clara would be helping her in getting ready for the wedding at the Edwards' family home later that morning, but Jane still wanted time to ready herself independently. Her father knocked softly at her door, pushing it open a bit. "Jane, dear. How are you feeling?" he asked.

Jane placed her comb back on the bureau, turning to face her father. "Nervous."

"What about?" he asked, running his fingers through his wildly disheveled white hair, still trying to wake up completely.

"I'm getting married, Daddy. It's…a big day, and at the end of it, I won't be a Porter anymore - I'll be an Edwards, then." She poured a bit, vehemently wanting to keep her family surname, despite knowing the family of her future husband would never allow that.

"Don't fret, dear, you'll always be a Porter, too," her father said, patting her shoulder. "You'll be alright. These things always seem to go smoothly if you relax." It did comfort her to know that she would always be a Porter, too. There was no way she could completely sever the ties between herself and that name. "Your mother was nervous on our wedding day, too. So was I. I nearly jumped out of my own skin I was so jittery!"

The last thing Jane could do was relax.

...

"You look lovely," Clara said, making a minor adjustment to Jane's veil.

Jane looked at herself in the mirror, and she was met with an unusual sight. Her did not look like herself at all, her normally bare face adorned with make up now - a thin layer of a warm golden toned eyeshadow covering her eyelids and her lips coated in the color of fresh raspberries. "Mm," she hummed, "I suppose. It all feels so unnatural."

"You look stiff - try to relax a bit. I can understand if you're nervous though. There are a lot of people here."

Jane had tried to push that from her mind - the sheer amount of guests at this wedding, and even more would be at the reception. "Don't remind me," she chuckled. "Oh, Clara," she lamented; "I feel like a fraud, an utter fraud."

Larkin's sister raised her eyebrows quizzically. She had not expected this reaction out of Jane, a generally emotionally reserved and collected young woman. "What do you mean, Jane?"

"Oh…I don't know," Jane croaked, "You - your whole family is so…fancy, and I'm just a girl from London - I don't have what you all have. I stick out like a sore thumb."

"You don't," Clara comforted, although she could sense that I didn't work, "Larkin loves you, and that's the important thing." With that, a large pipe organ could be heard being played. It was time - the moment that Jane had dreaded, and was most nervous for. She drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly, putting one foot in front of the other. She couldn't help but feel like she was walking away from more than she was walking towards.

...

Larkin carried Jane over the threshold of their bedroom that night, cradling her in his arms, which were surprisingly strong given his lack of athleticism. Theirs had been a beautiful wedding. Everything had gone according to plan, and everyone seemed overjoyed. Jane had sipped champagne and pretended to be as elated as everyone else. Marriage had always seemed so confining to her, and the expectation placed upon her to be just like the rest of Larkin's family weighed heavily on her mind.

But, tonight was a happy night, she reminded herself. The several glasses of champagne she had drunk throughout the night were helping her relax a bit too. She had smiled broadly, danced and laughed with all of the guests, trying to feel as jubilant as everyone else around her. She assured herself that all of this hesitance and resistance was just nervousness - and it would go away after she had some time to settle in.

Their bedroom seemed even larger than when she had first seen it. Granted, it was decorated now and full of lavish things. Larkin placed her down on the bed, and kissed her. "Welcome home, Mrs. Edwards," he said, flashing her his usual suave and confident smile. His voice was as smooth and slick as oil, and it exuded the same inflated confidence that his body language did. Jane nearly winced at the mention of her new last name. Jane Edwards wasn't her name - she was still Jane Porter. She didn't know if she would ever fully adapt to being an Edwards.

Jane smiled and kissed him back, "Mm, yes, Mrs. Edwards. That sounds lovely."

"Well, Mrs. Edwards," he said, smirking, "I've got one more surprise in store for you." He kissed her again, more passionately this time. Jane knew what this meant. Her cheeks flushed a bit at the mention of it. She knew what couples did on their wedding night. It was no secret or surprise. Her friends had giggled about this during the reception, thoroughly entertained by the idea of a generally proper and reserved Jane doing such things.

She had never been with anyone like this - she had kissed her childhood crushes on the cheek before running away in a fit of giggles, and she had kissed Larkin many times, but never had she been kissed like this. She didn't entirely know if she enjoyed it. Actually, she knew she didn't - it was more so a matter of if she could learn to pretend to enjoy it.

She told herself to relax, and that this was all a natural part of things. She would, and should, enjoy this. This is what married couples did, after all. It only made sense that they would do it too. What was wrong so deeply with her that she couldn't relax, and she couldn't shake the feeling that this was wrong? She did not know.

She could see what Larkin wanted and expected, and she obliged - not entirely enthusiastically. Her dress and undergarments were pulled away, and she felt exposed - horribly exposed, in fact. No one had seen her in such a state of undress. Despite her discomfort, she plastered a sensual smile across her face, and obliged her husband's desires.

Her mind wandered - it wandered to the memories of a certain face leaning in to kiss her - the face of a wilder man, one with dark hair and green eyes. She had enjoyed kissing him. She had never felt the intense desire to pull away like she did with the man in front of her now. She gasped, trying to vanquish the thought from her mind. She mustn't think like that, not now, not ever again. No. Larkin did not notice her gasp, or if he did, it blended well with the ragged, pleasured breathing coming from himself enough that he did not question it.

Later that night, once Larkin had fallen into a deep sleep, Jane lay awake in their bed, staring mindlessly at the ceiling. She could not sleep. It felt as if the walls were closing in on her. She fiddled with the ring on her left hand, and admired it. The diamond glinted a bit in the moonlight.

She reached for her nightgown and pulled it on, not wishing to be so exposed, even around her now husband, despite him being completely asleep. She crossed from the bed to the window seat that overlooked their front garden. She sat there for a long time in silence.

It was a full moon that night, and the pale light illuminated everything in frosty white. Jane stared at the moon, imagining that she could float through the window, up into the sky, and just fly away. She wished she could fly away from this. No matter how lavish her surroundings were, the walls still felt too tight, and the shutters felt like bars on a jail cell.

But perhaps things would be alright, she reminded herself. This was only the first night. There were countless nights ahead of them and she would be used to this soon. Soon, the house would not feel like it was swallowing her whole.

—

Tarzan lay awake, unusually alert. It had been hours since he had settled down to sleep, but he could not seem to fall into slumber despite his best efforts. He felt troubled, but he did not know why.

No longer able to lay still in his best on the jungle floor, he rose. He did not know where he wanted to go. The treehouse was too far to stray from the rest of the gorillas this late in the night, so that was out of the question.

Not seeing any other option, he made his way through the gnarled tree branches and curtains of vines until he reached the beach. It was a balmy night, and the smell of the salt water was pleasant enough - a comfortably warm breeze rustled the trees. The moon was full that night, an white ornament hanging in the rich blackness of the night sky. He stared at it for a moment, wondering if everyone in the world got to see the moon the same way that he did. He wondered if Jane looked at the moon often. He wondered if Jane thought of him, or if she had broken her word and forgotten about him.

He recalled a night, much like this one, where he had gone to Jane's camp and she had met him outside her tent. Like the many nights where they had done that before, he climbed high into the branches of a tree, helping her along, but ultimately letting her to ascend as independently as she could. They had sat in the branches for a long time, like they usually did. But this night felt different than the others had.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Jane had whispered, casting her gaze upwards to the sky, dotted with stars.

"You are beautiful," he had said, cupping her face in his hands. Her skin was soft and smooth - unlike anything he had ever felt before. Without knowing entirely what he was doing or why he was doing it, he had leaned forward, bringing their faces closer together. Their lips met — a warm, soft feeling that Tarzan had never experienced before. Jane was so soft, and her lips fit so well with his. He wanted to do this again - many more times, as many as he would be allowed.

Staring out over the ocean, he recalled this night silently to himself. It had been a good night. They had kissed many times. He could have sworn if he thought about it for long enough, he could feel her lips on his again.


	7. Chapter 7: Relative Freedom

CHAPTER SEVEN

It had been several long months since the wedding. Jane and Larkin lived in their big house on Chapel Lane West, and all was thought to be well. Jane had acclimated to the house - but only a bit. It did still seem just a bit too big when she was there alone, though. The fairytale exterior was not quite as dreamy on the inside, but sweet enough to still be sugar coated - painted in a thin gloss of pleasantries and half-real smiles.

Larkin had introduced her to their housekeeper – the sister of one of her male classmates from her first few years at university. This was a bit awkward for Jane, in all honesty, but she knew that their family only had so much money to invest into education, and too many children to be able to provide them all with post secondary educations and most of them worked more menial jobs. Her classmate, Jakub, seemed nice enough to her - the son of a Polish sea captain, studying politics, quite a reserved young man. His sister, Antonina, seemed equally as nice - although Jane did not know much about her. She was quiet, and Jane helped her with her work once she returned back to the house after university each day. They didn't speak much, but maintained the house in comfortable partial silence, occasionally discussing things like the weather, or their families.

Jane had visited with her father nearly every day since moving into her new house with her husband - either to discuss their scientific research, or just to be around him, and her old home. Sometimes, she would sit quietly in her old bedroom and revel in the comfort it brought her. Her father would leave it just as she had so that she could return home whenever she wanted, and be able to have a bit of her old life back in her hands. He could see that she was distinctly uncomfortable with all of the new things, generally relegated to families richer than the Porters had ever been. She was much like himself - and her mother - wanting nothing more than the simplicity and pleasure of life, far less concerned with extravagant possessions and spending.

It was a sunny day - one warm enough to where you could open your windows to let in the breeze and still be comfortable. This was Jane's favorite kind of weather, in fact. It reminded her of her childhood - days spent outside until dark, or until a good book called her name and she retreated to her room to read, still with the window open as to let the fresh air in. However, this was no longer childhood - and she had far heavier things on her mind than gallivanting outside and reading books.

Jane set her hat down on a hook by the door, and let her hair down from the up-do she had kept it in all the time that she had been out. She ran her hands through her hair, letting out a sigh. She was tired, and confused. Jane walked silently through the kitchen and into the dining room. She seemed to be in a bit of a daze. Letting her body slump into one of the dining room chairs, she allowed her head to tilt backwards, her tired eyes staring at the ceiling. Not a moment or two later, she heard a shuffling sound, and tore her gaze away from the ceiling of the dining room. "Oh, Nina, hello," she said, barely above a whisper. Her young, blonde housekeeper stood in front of her - perhaps she had been there all along and Jane had simply not noticed. She couldn't be sure.

Nina could immediately sense that something was amiss. Jane had not attended her university classes today, which was an immediate indicator that something was not right - Jane Porter never missed a class, not even when she probably should. Her demeanor seemed off too - just a bit too melancholy and removed, even if she had just been tired from daily errands around London. "What's wrong?" the young Polish woman asked, pulling out the chair next to Jane's at the table and sitting next to her. Her brow was furrowed in concern.

"I went to the doctor today," Jane began, brushing her hand through her hair again. She buried her face in her hands, shaking her head softly. "You remember the bouts of illness I've been having, yes?" Antonina nodded. "The doctor said it's morning sickness."

"You're going to have a baby, Jane?" Nina asked, placing a hand on Jane's shoulder. She knew the answer, but couldn't help asking anyways. She knew how Jane felt about having babies. She was a woman bound for education and a career in science - not a life of raising children and performing motherly duties.

"Quite," Jane sighed, shaking her head again. "A baby." Looking into her eyes, Nina could practically see the turmoil inside of Jane.

Jane knew that she should be happy - she was supposed to be happy. A young woman with a husband such as hers should be happy to be having a baby. Motherhood was her duty - at least that's what she was told by the wider world. As a woman, she was on a set track to motherhood. Jane was acutely aware of what this pregnancy meant, too - the retirement of her post secondary education. She would be bound to her life at home, in this sugar coated, half-happy home. The idea of Jane Porter sitting at home - a home maintained by a housekeeper, no less - holding babies, really didn't sit well with her.

"Have you told your father?" Nina asked, jolting Jane out of her train of thought.

She shook her head, still a bit dazed by all of the new information and new realities thrust upon her all at once. "No…Daddy doesn't know. I should tell him."

Before she could get a response from Antonina, Jane walked swiftly to the door again, grabbing her hat from the hook. She swung the door open and left quickly, beginning the short walk to her father's home. She made quick work of the journey, arriving on her father's front stoop minutes later.

She knocked hastily on the door, forgetting that she could just take the key from under the cushion of the rocking chair and unlock the door herself. Her father opened the door, looking at her, slightly confused. "Janey? Dear? Are you alright?"

"I've got some news," she replied, fidgeting with her hands nervously.

Growing ever more concerned, her father beckoned her inside, and into the sitting room to the couch. He sat beside her, one hand on her knee. "What ever is going on?" he asked. He could see that something was dreadfully wrong, but he hadn't the slightest clue what it was.

Jane hung her head, not in shame, but in frustration and defeat. "I'm going to have a baby." She couldn't say much more. The words didn't seem like they would come out.

Her father's eyes widened in shock. "This wasn't…planned, was it, Jane?" She grimaced and shook her head. He already knew that it wasn't intended.

"Daddy," Jane said, her voice trailing off, "What am I going to do?"

"Well, there's only so much you can do," he replied, "But, we'll continue our research, even if we can't do as much every day as we normally might."

"Really?" Jane asked.

He nodded, knowing his daughter would not easily give up academia. "We'll have to figure things out as we go, won't we?" he said comfortingly.

Jane looked down at her stomach, which she was acutely aware that held a small, forming baby. "I suppose so," her voice trailed off. She knew she could not maintain that forever, and at some point, would have to stay home. But for now, she had her relative freedom.


	8. Chapter 8: Anna Catherine

CHAPTER EIGHT

Days came and went like clockwork - the countdown to the end of her freedom, Jane felt. It was a warm morning - the sounds of the city were a full rumble and the birds were calling out in song. She stood in her bathroom, her auburn hair falling, disheveled, around her shoulders, and her white summer nightgown rumpled from her restless sleep the night before. She looked at her reflection in the mirror — tired, she concluded, she looked tired…and pregnant. Despite the loose nature of her nightgown, she could still notice the small protrusion of her stomach which would only continue to grow.

Larkin had already left for the day, as he usually did, and Jane would need to depart soon for a lecture at the university. She pulled her nightgown off, leaving her standing in her bathroom completely undressed. She looked at herself again, this time her naked form. Her pregnancy was even more pronounced now. Perhaps the nightgown did hide it a bit.

She ran her hands over her stomach, feeling the rise and fall where her pregnancy was. "This is good, Jane," she said. "You're happy." She needed a bath, so she ran the water, and bathed quickly. Before getting dressed, she looked at herself in the mirror one more time, running her index finger along the faint stretch marks that had already formed on her skin. She shook her head, noting to herself to find a remedy for this - she didn't like how that looked on her body. She selected a dress from her closet - the one she speculated would retain her pre-pregnancy form the best. She knew she was being silly - no one had noticed anything different about her body yet - not a single soul, but she was still self conscious. With her light grey summer trick on, she made her way to the university.

"Jane," her friend Alison called to her upon seeing her leaving the lecture hall. "Where have you been? I didn't see you the past few lectures."

Jane swallowed hard, needing to find an excuse quickly. She very well couldn't tell her friend that she had been in bed for nearly a week with morning sickness. No one could know about the baby - not outside of her family - not yet. She smoothed her still slightly messy hair nervously. "I've been a bit under the weather, that's all, nothing to worry about."

"Under the weather, aye?" chimes in Millie, having caught up to Alison, Emily trailing along behind her. "Is married life catching up to you that quickly, Jane?"

"What do you mean?" Jane asked.

"Is there a baby in there?" Millie laughed, gesturing towards Jane's stomach. Jane could tell she was joking, but she had no idea how right she was. Jane could feel her face contort into a smile out of instinct. She shook her head. Millie's eyes widened, "There is, isn't there? I can tell when you're not telling us something."

Jane shook her head again, more strongly this time. "No, no, there's no baby. Why would I ever have a baby...so soon, I mean."

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Jane, you're not being serious with us. It's written all over your face." She knew Jane was pregnant, she could just tell. She, and the other two girls, had known Jane since she was ten years old. They could be so easily fooled.

Jane's shoulders slumped in defeat. They had caught on quickly, more quickly than she would have liked. "You're right," she sighed, touching her stomach over her dress.

"I knew it," whispered Millie.

"That's exciting, Jane!" Alison exclaimed, shaking Jane's shoulder gently, "You and Larkin are going to be parents." Jane looked at her friends' smiling faces, wishing she could be as excited about this as they were.

"Oh, yes, very exciting," she said, plastering on her most convincing smile, "I'm just…worried, that's all, Alison. Just worried about things - school, my research - you know me." She laughed, in spite of herself, wishing that school and research were truly the biggest items of concern here. With each passing day, each passing second, she could feel her freedom slipping away - like trying to hold water in her hands. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep it. She knew once the baby came, school would be done, research would be done - Jane, in some essence, would be done - she would cease to be Jane Porter...Edwards…the aspiring naturalist, and she would become someone's mother, and in some way - just the accessory on her husband's arm. She saw this happen - she saw strong, capable young women get married, have children, and just lose their spark. She didn't want to lose her spark - she wanted to be Jane. But how could she?

...

It was December now, and the snow blanketed the ground. The air was crisp and cold. Jane, being nearly at full term now, hadn't been outside much. Normally she would have been - the natural elements rarely deterred her from anything, but in her pregnant state, she didn't have the energy for much.

It was the mid-afternoon now, and she was still home alone. Larkin had planned on staying late at the university medical laboratory today - something to do with a research study. Nina had since gone home for the day, and Jane soaked in the true and full silence of this enormous house. She sighed, lifting her head from her pillow so she could see outside. It had been grey and dreary all day, and nothing had changed since the last time she looked.

Feeling a shiver pass through her body, she decided a warm bath might do her some good. "I suppose I should make use of that porcelain tub," she sighed to no one but herself, heaving her body out of bed, "It probably cost more money than my entire education." She spit these words out with a certain distaste that she hadn't expected. She didn't know quite where the resentment had come from, but at the same time, she knew very well.

She retreated to the bathroom, dropping her dress undergarments unceremoniously in a heap in the corner before starting the tap. As the water heated and ran, she looked at herself in the mirror. She took her hair down from its bun, letting her auburn locks fall around her shoulders. She rubbed her face gently with her hands. She could see the fatigue in her features. Her eyes inevitably drifted down to the now very, very large protrusion of her pregnancy. Taking one hand, she traced the stretch marks that now stood, quite pronounced on her stomach. She had never found a way to get rid of them, much to her dismay.

Once the water filled the tub, and it was comfortably warm, she submerged herself, with the exception of her head and shoulders. She laid her head back against the lip of the tub, allowing her tired eyes to flutter closed. Letting her mind wander, she remembered swimming in the small pond in the jungle. She had dipped her feet in first, and finding that it's direct exposure to the sunlight had kept it quite warm, she ventured in further, holding her skirt in a bunch above her knees. Realizing how silly she must have looked, she returned to the grassy area at the edge of the water, abandoning her skirt - instead swimming only in her bloomers and white camisole shirt. These could be washed, and it wad all worth it for a swim in this pond. She glides quite effortlessly over the small trickling waterfall that fell over the rocks at the far end of the pond, letting this noticeably cooler water wash over her face and body. It was a welcome cool after days in the unforgiving jungle sun with such limited supplies with which to bathe. Realizing what she had been dreaming about, Jane's eyes flew open again, now staring at the ceiling. "Mustn't think about that," Jane muttered to herself, not daring to close her eyes again.

...

Another month passed without much splendor or excitement. Jane had given up going to university classes, much to her dismay and annoyance. She just couldn't seem to make it through the day without being too exhausted to complete her coursework day after day. She had spent time with Nina around the house, and her friends would come by to bring her small gifts - clothes for the baby, shoes, and the like. She had almost always insisted on buying everything with her own money, but her friends insisted on giving. Friends and family members of Larkin's came by too for the same reason, and Jane had been even more reluctant to take their offerings, but she did and did so graciously.

It was this dreary, drizzly January day - the thirteenth, to be precise - on which Jane's first child entered the world; a small baby with bright blue eyes who she named Anna Catherine Edwards.

"Oh Jane," Larkin coped, "She's beautiful."

Jane opened her eyes to look at her husband. After all of the exhaustion of her labor, she had laid her head back and closed her eyes - a silent reverie that the pain of that was over, as well as a silent moment of gathering composure. This was it. Her baby was here, in her arms - this was a real baby…here. "Mm, yes," she murmured, gently caressing her daughter who lay upon her bare chest.

"Quite beautiful indeed," her father said, moving closer to her bed, "She looks quite a lot like you when you were born, actually, Jane." This made Jane smile. Having her father here next to her, gently holding her hand, made her feel a bit more steady, despite the inner turmoil. "I do wish your mother could have been here to see this day, too," he whispered to no one but himself. Jane heard him, though.

"Me too," she sighed, glancing around, seeing that Larkin had left the room. She felt a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks - but up until now, she had been unaware that she, as well as her newborn daughter, had been softly crying.

"Are you quite alright, Janey?" her father asked, now noticing the tear streaks on his daughter's cheeks.

She sniffed, trying to compose herself as quickly as possible. "Oh yes, yes. Quite fine, indeed."

"I'm sorry if mentioning your mother brought up some emotions, dear. I just miss her ever so much."

Jane gave a half-hearted smile and shook her head a bit. "No, it's alright. I miss her too, but you didn't cause this. I don't know why I'm crying." She knew this was a lie - she, deep down, knew exactly why, but refused to admit it. "I'm fine."

Her father examined her face closely. She was a lot like him, in the sense that she couldn't really hide her feelings. She could try, but the people that knew her next could always see through the facade. He decided to let this be for the moment, with all the excitement and action of the day, he chose to let the issue rest. He could tell something was wrong - but what ever could it be?


	9. Chapter 9: The Quiet of the Night

CHAPTER NINE

Jane had always been one for silence - not the echoing, empty silence of the Chapel Lane West house, but the still, tranquil quiet of a summer night; that was the kind of quiet she reveled in. That kind of quiet, and quiet in general, had grown scarce in the months since she had given birth. Sound was everywhere now - between Larkin, the baby, and Nina in the house, as well as the many visitors that had come by to see her and Anna in the time since the birth - Jane could not seem to find many moments of quiet. The best she could get were the groggy times in middle of the night that she tended to Anna. Those were not restful moments of silence and reflection though.

It was around three in the morning. The sky was a deep, rich blue and the moon was full; a large, luminescent ornament that cast a frosty glow on the world below. Jane should have been asleep by now - really, she should have been asleep many hours ago - everyone else in her house was; Larkin, Anna, and even Clara, who had spent the night at their house after coming over to see her niece that evening.

It was silent, for once. One could have heard a pin drop at the opposite end of the house in this kind of silence, Jane speculated. It was the echoing silence of a slightly-too-large house, though. It was not what she had been craving for months now. But, nevertheless, Jane lay awake, staring out the window at the moon. It's light made her surroundings visible, at least in part. The tall wooden bureau stood in the corner, as well as a small desk. She had hoped to use this desk for drawing and studying, but most of the time it stood there unused, much to Jane's distaste.

She got out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping form next to her. The hardwood floors were smooth and cool under her feet. Pulling her housecoat around her on top of her nightgown for warmth, she made her way down the hallway, past the nursery and the guest bedroom, and finally, down the staircase. The steps didn't creak here like they did at her old house, she noted. She pulled the front door open, stepping outside, and then closed it behind her carefully, picking up the spare key from under the woven doormat. The ground was cold beneath her bare feet, making her wish she had thought to put on a pair of shoes or slippers before coming out. A soft breeze blew, penetrating beneath her housecoat and nightgown, making her shiver. She sat down on the front steps, the rough bricks were not comfortable, but there was nowhere else to sit as the porch furniture had been stored in the cellar for the winter and had not yet been brought back out despite the recently burgeoning spring.

Jane stared up at the moon, not thinking much, but grateful to be outside. She often felt as if the house was swallowing her - like, one day, she would become a part of it and all of what it represented. It was a beautiful house - large, lavishly decorated, with food always on the table and in the cupboards. What could she possibly be disenchanted by? She did not know.

"Jane?" She heard a woman's voice call out from the street. She immediately looked towards the street, and turned her attention to where the voice had come from. In the moonlight, she could see the silhouette of a woman walking towards her.

"Angela?" she called back in little more than a raised whisper.

"Who else?" the approaching woman chuckled, finally standing in full view of Jane. She had been right - it was her primary school classmate, Angela. Jane could not imagine what she, of all people, was doing on the street so late, or so early. She hadn't seen Angela in many years, not since they had been very young girls.

"What are you doing out at this time?" she asked.

"I might ask you the same thing, Miss Porter." A smile stretched over Angela's lips, a small sparkle in her deep brown eyes. "I haven't seen you since we were about ten years old." She was right, it had been almost an entire decade since they had been in primary school, and nearly a decade since she had seen the young woman who now sat next to her on her front steps.

"Well, now that we're asking questions," Jane mused, "Where have you been all these years?"

Angela brushed dark curls of hair out of her face, shooting an amused smile at Jane. "My parents took us back to Italy - well, it was back for them, the first time for my sister and I. We were there for...I don't know, seven, maybe eight years. They found a nice young man for me to marry there, and so, I got married. I wasn't even half way done with my first year of university," she scoffed. Jane could make out an eerily familiar tone of resentment in her voice as she spoke. "But, he wanted to come back to London - business is better here, apparently, so, now I'm back."

"What happened to your sister—Giovanna, right?"

"Oh, her," Angela said, "She got married too, but she ran off the night of the wedding. He woke up the next morning to find his bed empty and a note on the nightstand. Can you imagine? The first morning of your married life and your wife has already fled," she laughed almost wistfully. "Maybe I should've taken her lead."

"You're not happy?" Jane asked.

The dark haired woman shook her head fervently, pulling her jacket tighter around her shoulders. "Goodness, no," she said, practically spitting the words out. "But, it'll be alright soon enough. I've got a ticket for a boat going to France, and from there, I'm going to live with my sister in Paris. I'm no one's domestic lady." She practically spit this sentence out with a bitterness Jane had not yet seen from someone else.

"Really?" Jane asked, both intrigued and taken aback by the idea of just up and leaving without a word.

Angela nodded. "But, you?" she said, pointing a finger at Jane, "What are you doing? Where have you been?"

The Englishwoman shifted nervously on the steps, unsure of how to explain herself and how she ended up on these front steps in the wee hours of the morning. She curled her feet, tending her body, inadvertently scraping the soles of her feet along the rough surface. How could she possibly begin to explain everything? She drew in a deep breath and began, "Well, mm, yes, I finished secondary school and went to university. I went until quite recently. Daddy and I studied together - you know how Daddy feels about gorillas; he's fascinated. I went with him to Africa to study them. But, we had to come back."

"You say that as if you would have preferred staying."

This bluntness caught Jane off guard. "Oh, uh, I don't know. I would've liked to study more. You know, curiosity and all."

"I'm not daft, Porter," Angela said, only partially jokingly, "There's something you left there that you want to go back for."

"There's a wealth of things to be discovered - you know, plants, organisms, animals to be studied. I would have liked to have seen more, but time and circumstances didn't allow for it," she said, dodging the topic of Tarzan. She mustn't think of him, or the jungle, too much - mustn't have her head running away with fantasies.

"Alright, I'll drop it. I know there's more than what you're letting on, though. But, how did you get here?"

"I..,uh, married, some months ago - almost a year," she admitted quietly, as if she didn't want Angela to hear.

"Really? You? Married? If you're married, I'm the prince of Wales."

"No," she sighed, "I'm married. Larkin Edwards. I doubt you'd know him."

"Never heard of him, but, he must be...wealthy," Angela said, looking up at the looming house behind them.

"That's one of his many...attributes," Jane said. "We have a daughter, and a lovely housekeeper, and things are...lovely."

"You make a terrible liar, you know that, right? I think you get that from your father."

"What do you mean?" Jane asked, tensing slightly. She was happy, wasn't she? Big house, baby, wealthy husband, housekeeper - what every young woman wanted, supposedly. "I'm very happy."

"Just think about what I said," Angela said, placing a hand on Jane's knee. "I'm leaving on the first of the next month. I'm sure there's room for one more lady on board the ship."

"I won't be needing it," Jane insisted, "I'm perfectly happy." Angela gave her a pointed look before standing up, and brushing off her dress. "You never really answered my question," she continued. "What were you doing out so late?"

"I was just out for a stroll," she said nonchalantly, "Who says you can't take a stroll at three o'clock in the morning?"

"Nobody, I suppose."

"Well, exactly. And, if I may ask, what were you doing out here, Jane?"

"Just...thinking," Jane said, settling on this explanation, "Just thinking things through."


	10. Chapter 10: Perfectly Alright

CHAPTER TEN

Angela's words rang clearly in Jane's mind for days. She just couldn't help but marvel at her old classmate's boldness - to just up and leave everything you knew for a life more your own. It seemed a thrilling concept, and one she had dabbled with in the past secretively, but not one she could pursue now - especially not with a baby on her hip at all times. She didn't even know if she would have the courage to do it if she had been without a child. She touted herself a brave woman - but truly, how brave was she?

She wondered what it would be like to be free again - to go to university, continue her studies, travel, and meet all sorts of fascinating people with all different stories to tell. Perhaps she would know this great pleasure again one day - and maybe one day she would have a fascinating story of her own to tell - but for now, she could dream. Dreams would need to satiate that hunger for now - and for a long time to come, she speculated, if not forever.

Jane sighed, drawing the curtains on her bedroom window closed, blocking out the mid-morning glow of sunlight. She carefully walked down the wooden stairs, to be greeted by Nina, who was in the kitchen. Jane looked around at her kitchen, which was absolutely spotless. "My, you've been busy," she chuckled. The window overlooking the front garden had been opened, letting a pleasant breeze and the aroma of the flowers in the front garden to waft inside.

"Yes," Nina laughed, blushing a bit, "I wanted to get done as soon as I could today. I hope you don't mind."

Jane shook her head. "No, no - I don't mind at all. Why, may I ask?"

"My father - he's coming home today."

Jane couldn't recall Nina talking much about her father, truthfully - perhaps a passing comment, but not very much. "What does he do?"

"He's a merchant. He sails for most of the year. Always somewhere very far away," she sighed.

"Oh," Jane said, "That must be lovely. I'd love to travel like that. But, you know...that's not, mm, not my fate, I suppose." Nina nodded, knowing what Jane meant. They both yearned for more than they had - a career, an education, freedom - not mere domestic duties. Nina tucked a curl of golden blonde hair behind her ear and turned back to the dishes in the sink behind her. Jane bounced the baby on her lap gently, allowing her mind to wander into reverie. "Does your father ever take passengers along?" Jane blurred out without thinking.

Nina looked at her and cocked her head in confusion, "I don't think so, why?"

Feeling flustered, Jane replied, "Oh, no reason, just...interested, I suppose."

"Not thinking of running away now are you?" Nina joked, pointing a finger at Jane.

She shook her head vigorously, "No, no, no, no, no," she insisted, trying to convince herself as well as her housekeeper. "Even if I were, how far do you think I'd get with a baby?"

"You can't sneak off in the night with a baby. You can't really sneak anywhere."

"Don't I know it, Nina," Jane chuckled. She was right. Even if she could go anywhere - just pick up and leave - how far would she get with a baby? Not far at all. There was no point in fantasizing. She had said it once and she would say it again - she had no time for dreams and fantasies.

–––––—

It was the late afternoon now, and Jane had taken the short walk to her father's house. She had missed it dearly - more than she cared to admit. She sat in the spare chair of her father's study as he read, Anna sleeping in a small crib in Jane's childhood bedroom. Her father slid his glasses down his nose a bit as he read the document in front of him. "Janey," he said, "Can I...ask you something?"

"Of course," she said, nodding for him to continue.

"Are you happy?"

Jane's eyes widened with surprise and her posture stiffened slightly. "Why, yes, of course - why wouldn't I be happy?"

He looked back at her with a somewhat somber gaze. He could see that his daughter was perhaps not being entirely honest, but he knew he couldn't force the issue or else he wouldn't get any kind of answer out of her. "I just can't shake the feeling that you aren't completely satisfied."

She shook her head insistently, "No, no - Daddy, really…I'm alright. Perfectly alright."


End file.
